


Crown of Succession

by surskitty



Series: Step Aside and See the World [15]
Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Temporary Character Death, composer Neku, the revolving door to the afterlife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-06 01:38:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16378940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surskitty/pseuds/surskitty
Summary: Neku pulls the trigger.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've been wanting to write Composer Neku/Conductor Beat for a while, but it keeps going off-track. For one thing, Joshua wasn't supposed to be in this.
> 
> This fic series should eventually be Beat/Neku and Joshua/Minamimoto, but the next act (Beat pov) hasn't been cooperating so here's part one of probably three.
> 
> Warnings for suicide ideation, some gore, Neku having no idea what's going through Joshua's head and being a dick about it, and Joshua dying repeatedly. He gets better.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

The pull of a trigger.

Neku won’t do it, the stolen memory of his death ringing through his head, but he has no choice. He lifts up the gun, his heart pounding and vision watery, and he wants this to stop with all of his being. No game, no death, no betrayal, no composer. He wants it all gone and for his friends to be safe, for the _city_ to be safe, and his hand clenches.

It’s enough, no safety to release when he hasn’t been safe in weeks, and the recoil hurts and he – that was his shot and he took it, no matter that he didn’t want to. Either Joshua’s dead or he is, and his hands slack before he looks, his gun clattering to the floor.

“You were supposed to aim,” Joshua chides, and the guy’s arm is half gone, black blood and sharp static leaking out like a hole in the world. He looks bad, as inhuman as he acts, and Neku tries not to watch as he sets his own gun down and flicks it over to Neku. Conceding defeat, like it makes any sense at all.

What the absolute fuck.

“Speak up,” Joshua adds, though Neku didn’t say anything, and he waits for Neku to, what, cuss him out? To do _something,_ but Joshua carefully sits down on the floor and tears off what’s left of his injured arm. The whole thing dissolves when it’s detached, the stump cauterizing on its own, and from his expression it might as well be a minor inconvenience.

Neku just shot him and the guy doesn’t even care. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he says tiredly, and Joshua waves noncommittally with his remaining hand.

“Nothing jacking Shibuya won’t fix,” he says back, and Neku glowers. This is no time to keep up his obsession with – with finding the composer, except that’s him, ain’t it? What a sick joke, dragging Neku along on a quest to find himself, and it’s even worse that Mr H went with it, but Joshua’s got a serious look on his face and his words register.

Joshua _wants_ Shibuya taken from him.

Fuck.

“Bring Beat back and he’ll oblige,” Neku drawls, and he needs his friends. His real friends, not Joshua.

But they’ve all been stolen, and Joshua pulls three pins out of the air, balancing them between his fingers like a stage magician. “I’m just not feeling it today,” he sings mockingly, flashing one long enough for Neku to recognize Rhyme before hiding them back in his palm. Of course he doesn’t play fair.

Neku doesn’t have to, either. He pulls on a psych and calls the fallen gun to his hands, points it at Joshua. “Give them back right now,” he orders, his voice shaky, but he has nothing to negotiate with. The only thing Neku has that Joshua wants is a bullet.

And Joshua knows it. He waits dispassionately for Neku to shoot, and when he doesn’t, rolls his eyes and makes eye contact. It would be so easy for Neku to kill him, and the bastard deserves it, doesn’t he? An eye for an eye, and Neku won’t even be lying about it, parcelling out information to blame who he wants. All he needs to do is pull the trigger and life’s little crossroad will resolve itself.

Or he can refuse, like a coward, and leave Joshua to destroy Shibuya after all. Our countless wrongs need righting, and where better to start than by removing Neku himself? Come on, Neku, you’re a worthless piece of scum, anyway, without a single person in the Realground who even left you a memorial; no one will miss you. Just raise that gun to your head and put yourself out of your misery. You don’t want to see what will happen next, after all.

Neku pulls his gaze away and the pressure lowers, though it doesn’t stop. Joshua can play him easy as anything, his mind as much a toy as the city’s people, and one of them needs a light of true redemption.

“I’m not doing this for you,” Neku states, and he shoots.

All goes white.

* * *

Sound, color, time, space, thought, memory – all are within Neku’s domain, and his domain is Shibuya’s domain, or will be. _Sort your shit out,_ Mr H says, like he’s one to talk, and he fades down to the underground, his ears ringing like he’s been plucked. He knows so little, but his questions can wait.

Joshua isn’t the partner he wanted, but fuck him and his death; Neku needs some help here, and his soul’s still close, wispy where Neku erased him. He wouldn’t have found him an hour ago, but now it’s easy, the UG helping his hand as Joshua _squirms,_ the slippery bastard loath to clean up his own messes. “I need my friends back and you’re the one who knows shit,” Neku snaps, and the soul gives in, landing in his hand as a pin just like Rhyme’s.

And here he thought Mr H was a miracle worker. He pushes some energy into it, just like using a psych, but his fingers feel oily and electrified and the pin doesn’t want to come to his hand. It statics into being eventually, a mass of pink and gold feathers, and he’s got a moment to notice what a showoff Joshua is before the noise bites him. “Shit!” he yelps, nearly throwing it, but Joshua’s beak holds firm to his fingers and he regrets fucking everything.

Of course the guy’s not useful – he was _never_ useful – and Neku might actually cry as the bird claws at his shirt and releases Neku’s finger. Joshua clucks, shoving his head into Neku’s pocket, and then he’s holding three pins in his beak like a peace offering.

Maybe trusting him isn’t totally stupid. The bird gives them up without a fight, his beady eyes judgmental, and then Neku tries to get him off his shirt without much luck. He’s a bitey little thing, just as prickly as Neku’s used to, and Neku protects his eyes for fear of the guy pecking them out.

Joshua caws in satisfaction, and his wings hit Neku’s arms as he climbs him and settles on his head, treating his hair like it’s the crow’s nest on the S.S. Scapegoat.

What a complete jerk, but Neku needs to fix his friends and he’ll let the twit get his asshole jollies for now. Beat is easiest to call back, his pact fresh and entry fees returned, and Neku can feel why he was disappearing. Not enough soul energy of his own to keep him going without an anchor, and if Neku pushes some in –

Beat snaps aware like he’d been paused, and he looks around the room of reckoning like he thinks a giant snake noise is going to get him. No, no – Neku waves to him from the throne, and Beat squints at him, uncomprehending. “Beat, it’s me,” he says, his voice echoing weirdly, and he thinks it hurts Beat’s head.

“… Neku?” he tries, and yes, duh. He’s not the only one Neku needs to fix, though, and Joshua caws.

Shiki’s next, two weeks late, and the space where her physical form’s defined is scribbled over, the psychic equivalent of a piece of duct tape. It comes right off without any sticky residue, never meant to be permanent, and then he pulls her out of the pin.

She looks good as herself, tall and short black hair and a frown on her face, and he’s got a dopey smile of his own as he returns her to consciousness.

Not that she seems to see it, immediately turning away from him like he hurts to look at, and she sweeps Beat into a hug. “We’re alive!” she says, though they’re not, and her happiness is infectious when she hears her own voice: “I’m _me!_ ”

Beat clears his throat. “Ain’t you the other one?” he mumbles, but she’s not listening and Neku’s not done. Rhyme needs to come back, too.

Konishi was right; her memories were _Beat’s_ fee, and they go back in effortlessly, never meant to challenge her. What’s gone is her own verve, her drive to try whatever she wants to try for a long term goal, and he can’t give her her dreams back. Shibuya ate them. He puts back together what he can, her human form simply another stanza of her song, and Beat freezes before slamming her into a bear hug, Shiki still on his arm. She wakes up between them both, and Neku should stop there.

But he doesn’t want to, his final partner weighing on his mind. “Come on, you,” he tells the bird, and Joshua claws his scalp. _No, you gotta,_ he thinks, but he grabs the guy with his psi and the backlash jars his arm, something really not right. If Neku could fix Rhyme, he should be able to fix Josh, but he tries again to twist Joshua to what he’d been and the bird squawks in obvious pain.

Okay, okay. He can take a hint, and he forces himself into his friends’ visual range as he stands up. “The composer’s dead,” Neku announces, the lie easier than the truth right now, and he can _feel_ the noise relaxing through their pact. “I’m gonna bring you back to life, but I wanted to say bye first.”

“You’re not coming?” Shiki asks, perturbed, and Neku shrugs. He wants to. He wants to so badly. “Neku, we’re not leaving you.”

Oh, hell no. “What about Eri?” he says bluntly, and she purses her lips. “Shiki, you _have_ to go back. Somebody needs to run the Game.”

And that’s him, unless this damn bird shapes up. Predictably, the bird does nothing. “I’m a reaper,” Beat says, awkward, and Neku stares at him. Like hell you are.

“Reapers have to erase people, Beat,” he states, just in case he _didn’t notice,_ and Shiki blanches. Beat makes a face. And Rhyme?

Well, Rhyme’s stronger than any of them. “My brother isn’t going to _not_ protect you, Neku,” she chides, and it takes a second but then Beat’s hugging her again, tears in his eyes. She has her memories back!

Neku wishes getting his own memories back was as great. Joshua was right about one thing: he really does have nothing waiting for him in the Realground. He wanted to look, but no one will miss him. “You’re okay,” he says instead, a little awkward, and her smile is the cutest thing he’s ever seen. Beat squishes her.

“I don’t gotta pick between you, Phones,” Beat reminds him, and Neku stops. He’s right; Neku’s seen some of the reapers talk to the living, so he’s got to be able to do both. It seems wrong, though; they should all be _safe,_ and the bird on his head caws irritably.

“Shut it, Josh,” Neku says, reaching up and smacking him, and the bird pecks him for his trouble. What he really wants is to fix this guy and put him back in charge, but Neku can’t trust him to do a good job of it. The composer’s game’s so fucked even the reapers were unhappy, and if Joshua was the composer … can Neku really trust him? But then his friends are staring at him, or at the bird noise on his head, and Neku tries to pick him up to do a real introduction.

Joshua bites him again. Caw! he says, which might be _don’t touch me_ or just _fuck off,_ and Neku tries taking off his headphones to get the bird with it, but Joshua scrambles back and clings to his hair. He really doesn’t want to move, huh, and Neku could squash him back into a pin and force him but he’s not that mean. “My second partner won’t let me fix him,” Neku explains, and Beat and Shiki look at each other.

“He’s the one that was working with Mr H, yeah?” Beat says eventually, and Neku nods. Joshua flattens himself against Neku’s head, his wings brushing Neku’s ears, and Neku’d pet him if he wasn’t sure it’d get him bit. “Did Mr H do that to him?”

“No,” Neku states, and leaves it at that. Beat rubs his neck. “… I don’t think he likes me.”

“It wasn’t bad being noise,” Rhyme says, trying to be reassuring, and Neku feels like the worst person. She shouldn’t have ever had that happen to her, and Neku’d acted like he didn’t even care. He’s such a jackass, and he feels Joshua grab some of his hair in his beak to, what, preen it? Dude, if you want to help, you can let Neku turn you human again, or not have made Neku kill you, or do literally anything other than what you spent the last few weeks on.

Joshua preens him more, his beak clacking. Weirdo. “You don’t have to stay,” Neku tells Beat again, as the bird messes with his hair, and he thinks Josh might not be entirely meaning to be a dick. “I’m not gonna be all alone.”

“That guy doesn’t count,” he says back, and he’s not wrong. Actually, being stuck here with Joshua’s got to be some sort of hell on its own, but Neku doesn’t want to tell Beat about him killing him and definitely not about him making Neku kill him. It’s not something he needs to know right now, not when he might get guilted into fucking up his life, and Neku’s so tired.

“Thanks, Beat,” he says, and he gives his best friend a hug. And then Shiki and Rhyme need hugs, too, and he whispers in their ears: “Don’t worry about me, okay?” He knows they will, but they nod anyway, and he steps back, his feet catching on something intangible.

The composer’s throne, right next to him wherever he goes, and he takes his seat.

* * *

He’s alone again, or maybe he’s the only being who really matters, all of Shibuya laid out before him, and it’s easy to pick up Shiki and Rhyme and send them down where they’re supposed to be, human again with human concerns. What’s hard is bringing the world into line, their families’ memories adjusted to suit the new reality, and they’re not the worst of the damage. The whole ward has lost most of a week, and Tokyo can only cover for so much.

Shibuya’s staff would be in a lot of trouble if they weren’t all erased. But they’re not _all_ erased, Neku thinks, though he’s not going to leave the survivors out to hang. There’s Pinky and Lollipop, exhausted after their scuffle but hanging in there with an extra Game’s points; BJ and Tenho, alone and afraid. That guy who’d always asked him for ramen. Beat, of course, and Neku touches their pact as Beat flushes, their bond of trust something Neku could listen to all day.

And Pi Face, somehow still around after Joshua dropped a vending machine on him, which he has no idea what to do with. Out of everyone you could spare, you pick that guy? He’d ask the one responsible, but he can barely feel Joshua at all, the noise softer than the weakest reaper, and even their pact is a quiet thing. Shibuya’s done with its old composer, no matter that Neku brought him back, and Neku looks away. Joshua’s not the only one who got erased, after all.

Sota, Nao, the reaper review guy, that food asshole from his first game – they’re all gone, and he’s not interested in bringing back the Iron Maiden or Shades. Those jerks can rot, but the people who should’ve Played last week? They deserve a second chance, and he pulls together the ones he can find. They still need a proper Game to prove themselves in, but they’ll get that chance; Neku’ll make sure of it.

And there’s one other innocent he can save. 777’s stuck around, his soul untainted by taboo noise, and Neku takes the victory where he can get it. He’ll be safe and sound with his bandmates, and Neku will have brought that small bit of justice back to the world.

He leaves Pi Face alone, not willing to put another death on his hands no matter how much he would have earned it, and scopes out Cat Street. Mr H is back, with a ringing to his soul Neku doesn’t think he could ignore, but the shop’s trashed and fights him when he prods it with his power. It’s not his to fix, and he’s got plenty of work to do.

But he’s made a good start, and he hops down to the lounge – his new _house_ – to hash things out with Beat. Beat’s out in the sewer cussing out fifenfrogs, but he flicks his power and his friend crashes onto the couch.

“Sorry, Beat,” Neku says, and Beat waves it off.

“Turn the glow down and we’ll call it even, yeah?”

What glow? He rubs his head, not sure how to stop that, and his fingers catch on a pin. Oh, right, he had Joshua there, and then he – his face heats. He hadn’t meant to fry the guy, even if he is an asshole, and he sets the pin down next to Beat as he tries to figure out how to turn the glow off.

He needs to be normal, or more normal, and he concentrates hard on his connection to Beat as he pulls himself down, or maybe the guy a bit up. “Did I get it?” he asks, and Beat nods slowly, a faint blush on his _very close_ face.

Neku scrambles off his lap and onto the other couch, skipping the steps in the middle, and he did _not_ realize he can teleport. Beat laughs a little, maybe out of nervousness instead of finding any of this funny, but Neku still smiles at him shyly and he thinks it makes Beat feel better. But then Beat sobers, picking up the pin, and he’s got to recognize the design as being that bird Neku had. “You gonna let him back out?” Beat asks, and Neku shakes his head.

“That’s the old composer,” he admits, and Beat recoils like the pin’s gonna get him. Neku huffs a laugh – that guy’s as harmless now as he could ever be – and motions for Beat to throw it over, but Beat just picks it up and looks at it. “I wasn’t lying about him being my other partner, but he – he’s the guy who killed me, and he was gonna do worse if I didn’t – well, you see him.”

He’s really nothing now, just some little decoration unless somebody pulls him out of it, and Beat just looks tired. “You were supposed to let _me_ beat him,” he says, and Neku laughs again. It’s that or cry.

“I tried,” he promises. “He wasn’t having it.”

He raises his hand again for the pin, and this time, Beat throws it, a perfect toss and catch. Like they’re still synchronized even now, and Neku puts enough power in to let the noise out, careful not to fry him. The bird noise takes one look at him and flies off, pink and gold feathers eerie in the pale blue light, and there’s nowhere for it to go except up on top of a cabinet. Hiding from them, Neku realizes, and he doesn’t understand why Joshua would be afraid of him.

“I wanna fix you if you’ll let me,” he tries, and Joshua caws at him. Not at all interested in what Neku’s got to say, and Neku guesses he’ll leave him to it. He shrugs at Beat, and Beat shrugs back. “Why did I think getting erased would make him _nicer?_ ”

“Dyin’ helped us out,” Beat mutters. He’s right, as much as Neku’d hate to admit it, and it’s not fair. It’s not fair at all.

He wants to go home, but he knows bone-deep he’ll never go home again, the composer’s power too strong for mere mortals. He’d erase them or worse, their minds looking to his for guidance, and he feels sick.

 _Beat_ can go home, though. He’ll be strong once he settles in, but for now he’d be safe with his family. He doesn’t have to stay. “Rhyme’s alive and she remembers you,” he says, awkward. “Are you going home or staying here?”

“This gonna be your place?” Beat asks, and Neku nods. He hasn’t redecorated, but he can feel the lounge bending to his needs, rooms for them both on the edge of forming, as soon as they want them. Beat looks the lounge over, thinking, then shakes his head. “I don’t want my folks thinking I died 'cause we had a fight,” he says, and that’s … that’s fair, actually.

“Good thing you _didn’t_ take down the composer, then,” he jokes, and Beat winces. Yeah, Neku didn’t think it’s funny, either. “I’ll send you up and convince your parents you’re fine, and you come down when you want to, okay?”

“Yeah,” Beat says, and they bump fists, both trying to put a brave face on it. Joshua caws from behind a liquor bottle.

He’s not alone, and he hopes he never will be.


	2. Chapter 2

The city is bigger than he can imagine, two hundred thousand little worlds under his purview, but his attention’s on two particular households as he ignores his own. The Misakis, Shiki’s family nervous after her temporary withdrawal, and the Bitous, relieved that their kids are out of the hospital. And that’s all there should be to it, but Neku knows better.

Beat knows better, too, his reaper wings hidden away in the UG even as he plays at being a normal boy who just got hurt skateboarding, not somebody who _died in a car crash,_ what the fuck, and Neku so badly wants to be there with him as he assures his parents his knee doesn’t hurt that much, honest. And then he’s hugging Rhyme and helping her with her homework, or trying to when he barely knew this stuff when they were teaching it, and Neku shouldn’t be watching.

He forces himself away and down into the lounge, his immediate duties done, and he senses immediately that the bird noise is still skulking in the cabinets. “You don’t have to hide, you know,” he calls out as he sits down on the couch, a laptop on the coffee table for his use and his use only, and he hears a drawn out coo. Like if a bird could sigh, but it’s Neku who’s had the month from hell, not that guy.

_Tap tap tap t-tap._ Pause. _T-t-tap t-tap._ Pause. Joshua keeps on like that, his beak loud on the wood frame as Neku sets a password and drowns in two weeks of ignored composer email, and he’s not even following a rhythm. Just a handful of taps at a time, and then he stops.

Wait. “Is that wabun code?” he snaps, and Joshua caws. “You could just _let me fix you._ ”

T-tap, t-tap tap, tap tap t-tap tap. Neku repeats it to himself as he looks it up, then stares over at the damn bird. “‘Iyaa’ yourself, Josh,” he says, getting up, and he takes pleasure in walking each and every step from the couch to the bar.

But Joshua’s huddled in the back again, and Neku doesn’t have the heart to pull him out. Instead, he gives the bird the pissiest glare he’s got, pure _don’t fuck with me,_ and floats up to have the high ground. “What were you saying?” he says, and the bird scratches with one foot.

Then winks with its devilish beady little eyes, and taps again. `I want to see Mr Hanekoma,` he says, the honorific there even though Neku’s having to look this shit up, and it takes a second for the actual words to register. `Hanekoma Sanae-san,` he repeats, like there’s some other one they both know, and then he clacks his beak.

The guy’s dead and a bird, and he’s still ordering Neku around. What a complete fucker. “Okay,” Neku says easily, because he’s got questions, too, and Joshua does this unfairly cute little coo and whistle. “You’re gonna have to get out of there, though.”

Stop, stare, clack beak. Neku thinks he’s getting pretty good at reading him, all things considered. He puts his arm out for Joshua to land on, and the bird watches him dubiously before gliding to Neku’s shoulder and hiding under his shirt collar. Whatever keeps the control freak going, and Neku starts to switch frequencies as Joshua squawks.

“What _now?_ ” He’s already doing the guy a favor, but Joshua pokes his beak out, and Neku really doesn’t get it. He reaches for Shibuya again, and _oh._ The guy can’t hold his form up that high. “Do you need me to squash you?” A nod, and hell, Neku hates this. But he saw with Rhyme that she was just fine once someone called her out again, and he wraps his hand around the bird’s little body and **crunch.** The sound is even worse than the reverb through their pact, but he needs to move him somehow and Shibuya’d have fried him.

Shibuya _did_ fry him the last time Neku went up holding the guy, and Neku didn’t even notice. What a great friend he is, right? He rubs the pin almost in apology, then sighs. Josh wanted to see Mr H, so they’ll go see Mr H. Neku’s got plenty to ask him, too.

It’s a ten second trip as the composer flies, and Neku lands outside of Wildkat with a weird pride in his stomach. He got from where he was to where he wanted without any work, and that it’s two in the morning doesn’t bother him at all. The night is young, and so is he.

He calls Joshua back out of the pin, and the bird butts his head against Neku’s hand, awfully friendly for a douchebag. Neku doesn’t trust it, but he scritches the noise’s neck feathers anyway as he peers into the window. Maybe it is a bit late.

Joshua hops from Neku’s hand to the doorknob, then cranes his neck down to peck the keyhole. Neku doesn’t have control of it, dude, but Joshua keeps trying to pry it open and hissing at it.

The door opens eventually, and Neku’d be impressed if Mr H wasn’t on the other side of it, a cup of coffee in his other hand. His second partner does not have a new career as a burglar ahead of him. A bird burglar. A birbglar. “I don’t need more vandalism from brats,” Mr H tells the bird, and he steps aside for Neku to come in. “Late night, composer?”

“How did you know?”

“I got a watch.” That’s not what Neku meant, and his brow furrows as the guy laughs at him. “It’s my job to look after your sort,” he explains, lifting his sunglasses (at _night?_ ) up to watch Joshua flutter from the door to Neku’s shoulder, and that … explains nothing, actually.

The cafe’s still wrecked, only the barest attempt at cleaning done, and Neku steps around a broken chair as Mr H heads back behind the counter. The whole room has a weird air to it, a bit like being near Pi Face, and Joshua’s nails dig into his shoulder. Did Joshua know about this?

Ugh, so many questions he’d like to ask, and Joshua’s being a stupid bird. “I can’t tell how to fix him,” Neku says plaintively, and Mr H gives him a long look before flicking his hand in a familiar manner, pulling Joshua up and into the air with a bit of psychokinesis. The noise struggles uselessly enough Neku almost pities the guy, but Mr H moves him over to a clear spot and snaps his fingers, forcing him into human form.

And butt naked on top of that. Neku averts his eyes quickly, but that doesn’t stop his new senses from being _very interested_ in what a Joshua looks like under the clothes, and the answer seems to be ‘scrawny.’ Scrawny, shaved, and with two massive gashes on his back from his ass to his collarbone where wings should attach, and Neku jerks to see Mr H’s reaction. But he only gives Joshua a cursory glance before turning back to Neku, and Neku _knows_ the former composer doesn’t like that one bit.

“You’re doing well for yourself,” Joshua says drily, looking over all the damage and incidentally getting his back out of view, and Neku wishes the guy had some pants. “I thought you might have fallen into trouble, seeing as you haven’t yet sworn fealty to _your new composer,_ but you seem remarkably put together for a traitorous weasel.”

“He’s not going anywhere and I got bigger priorities,” he says easily, gesturing to the shop, but Neku could’ve fixed that, if Mr H let him. Maybe he wants things done by hand, but Joshua sighs exaggeratedly enough Neku doubts it.

“Cleaning up all your taboo noise takes time, I suppose,” Joshua concedes, and Neku wants to think they were just Minamimoto’s. He remembers the photo, though, and Joshua sighs. “Really, no denial?”

“Phones’s problem, not yours,” Mr H says curtly, and great, that’s just what Neku needed: more problems. “J, do us all a favor and get some clothes, yeah?”

The guy glowers like he thinks it’s Mr H’s fault he’s buck naked, and Neku clears his throat. There’s things Neku doesn’t want to see, dude, and he points at the stairs insistently. Joshua looks like he wants to argue, but he’s got no power now and he stalks off, the wounds where his wings were leaking static and even less appealing than his scrawny ass.

“He wouldn’t have that problem if he got some clothes the real way,” Mr H comments, and if Joshua ends up stealing his best suit, Neku won’t tell him to give it back. “You gotta enjoy the moment, Phones: every shortcut you take in life can bite you in the ass later.”

“Like the taboo noise?” he asks, and Mr H shrugs. Man, he does _not_ want CAT to have been working with Pi Face, and Neku barely knew the guy. “You know, I defended you to Beat.”

The guy winces, then runs his hand through his hair, his thumb massaging his temple. “You’ll have to do that again,” he says, tired, “'cause it ain’t legal for anyone but the composer to know who I am.”

And who is he? Neku furrows his brow instead of asking the question he’s clearly meant to, and Mr H vibrates, something about him resonating with Neku in a way Neku neither likes nor trusts. His head hurts.

His back hurts, too, indescribably itchy somewhere he doesn’t recall having, and he feels his wings of office settle in behind him, thick and very much not human. Mr H whistles, satisfied, and then he sprouts wings, too, big beautiful ones you could wrap around yourself and still have space left over.

Even meeting reapers didn’t make him expect angels, but here’s one in front of him and it’s the artist he idolized. It’s also the guy he thought was composer, and even if that turned out to be a misunderstanding, he’s in just as deep.

“It’s a big world you found yourself in, Neku,” Mr H says softly, and it sure is. “Don’t let the past few weeks spoil anything for ya. Josh’s bullshit’s his bullshit and I’ll get it all cleaned up for you to have a clean slate.”

“The clean slate I want is to _go home,_ Mr H,” he says, his voice cracking, and he really hates this. His life wasn’t anything special and maybe nobody he knew before dying cares either way what happens to him, but it’s his, you know? He wants his life, and not this shit.

“If you can get that guy to take his job back, more power to you,” Hanekoma says back, and thanks for that. Like Neku has any control over what Joshua does. Neku knows a stubborn asshole when he gets shot by one, and that guy’s stubborn enough to give Neku a run for his money. “I think he wanted to retire even before I set Minamimoto after him, though.”

His retirement isn’t Neku’s problem. “Mm.”

“Minamimoto’s got his flaws, but he’d take care of Shibuya,” he adds, like saving Shibuya is even on Neku’s mind right now, and _fuck_ Shibuya. His head hurts and he wants to go home. Mr H seems to realize his explanation’s not wanted, though, and he sighs, lifting up one wing enough Neku could probably dart under it if he wanted to.

He really does not want to.

“Is there _any way_ I can go home, Mr H?” he tries, and the barista glances upward, like he wants advice from the heavens, or like he’s thinking of Joshua. Like Joshua would do anything useful for anyone else, but Neku’s made it so Joshua could get home, hasn’t he? If Joshua doesn’t want to, he should do Neku a solid and take his stupid job back.

“Minamimoto ain’t the type to help the dead one bit more than he has to,” Mr H says quietly, and that’s … that’s terrible, but it also means Neku’s thinking of leaving _Pi Face_ in charge, and he shivers. “And Josh doesn’t change his mind. You’re stuck with us in the UG, Phones.”

Ugh. He thinks Mr H is telling the truth, but he thinks a lot of things. Most of them are wrong. Right now, he thinks he might feel better if he screams.

Instead, he looks at the angel as he tries to keep his spirits up, and Mr H titters, conjuring a broom into his hand. Neku jumps, a little surprised he can just _do that,_ but he doesn’t interrupt as Mr H starts on sweeping some of the mess up and points with his thumb to the stairs at the back of the shop.

Yeah, Joshua probably knows shit, huh, but Neku doesn’t want to talk to him. He heads halfway up the stairs and stops there, and he’d _stay_ there, but – he – Joshua has to know he wants to go home, right? He was a total asshole about it, but he knew Neku couldn’t afford to lose. He runs up the rest of the stairs before he can think better of it, and glances around the little studio.

Paintings and easels take up most of the space left by a stained couch, and the door’s open to a little bathroom. Joshua jerks when he sees Neku in the mirror, though he pretends not to, and Neku thinks he might be wondering if he can get away with ignoring him. Hell to the no, and Neku clears his throat before sitting on a reasonably dry part of the couch, no oil paint likely to stick to his butt.

Joshua’s not _fast_ about coming out, not like Neku thought that would ever happen, but he doesn’t make him wait, either, hands in his sweatpant pockets as he casually slinks against the wall, and Neku notices he’s nearly dressed like a wall reaper. No patterning on the sleeves, though, and Neku can’t tell if that’s better or worse. “Nice weather we’re having, isn’t it?”

No. He hates the weather, and he especially hates when Joshua is full of bullshit. Joshua carries on, though, determined to be a chatty jackass: “Shibuya’s always had good weather, even if we’ve been neglecting the climate. I do hope you’ll learn to appreciate it. After all, it’s your weather now, and --”

Neku cuts him off: “It’s hot and muggy, Josh.”

“You could stand to be more positive,” he grumbles back, and Neku direly wants to smack him. Positive about _what?!_ “You were on the hunt for the composer and you found him. It’s not my problem you tried to chicken out.”

_“Chicken out?”_ Neku growls, and the UG warps with his anger, tense around the former composer. Neku could just squeeze, this little easy motion to destroy this asshole’s physical form, but he knows that’s what Joshua wants and Neku’s better than that. “I wanted to _stop_ the composer; I didn’t want to kill anyone.”

“Mitsuki Konishi would disagree,” Joshua says back placidly, and she – Neku stops. She was a reaper and an asshole, but Beat’s a reaper, now, too; the reapers are still people. “From my understanding of what happened in my absence, she _did_ deserve it, but she was more human than I, Neku. What makes me different?”

Because they’re friends, Neku wants to say, but their friendship was a lie. Joshua ran the reapers’ game; he’s caused more erasures than Konishi ever did. He’s killed Neku and used him and used him some more.

And Neku still doesn’t want him to die. “You already forced me to take your job,” he says tiredly. “Why do you want me to kill you so badly?”

Nailed it. Joshua stares at him for long enough Neku might have gotten uncomfortable if he didn’t know this was a power play, and eventually he sighs and joins Neku on the couch. “There wasn’t supposed to be an after,” he murmurs. “Someone would erase me, or I’d destroy Shibuya and that would be it. You’re too nice for your own good, Neku.”

“Excuse me if I don’t take your word for it,” Neku says back, but he’s wanted to die before, too. He never killed anyone or screwed over a ton of people, but he did want to die, and he wouldn’t have cared if – okay, no, there is no possible world he wouldn’t have cared about the red skull pins. This ‘trust your partner’ thing is over. His partner is a jackass. “I’m not erasing you, and you’re going to have to live with that.”

“What am I supposed to live _for?_ ” he says plaintively, and the dipshit is whining. Found: one whiny murderous dickweed, and Neku’d trade him in for the reward if he thought anyone other than Hanekoma would want him. “I’ve been dead for decades, Neku. The world’s changed without me in it.”

Sounds rough, but that’s also not Neku’s problem. “Look, you’ve already dumped all your messes on me,” he snaps, “so can you shut up?”

The guy’s quiet enough after that he might actually be thinking, and that’s a first. “I suppose I did,” he says softly, still talking like he doesn’t know what _shut up_ means, but Neku’ll still take it if it means Joshua’s done throwing himself a pity party. “You’ll have my assistance as long as you desire it, Composer.”

And that? That, right there? That’s _why_ Neku wanted him to shut up, because every single word out of his mouth makes it worse. He stands up because he can’t not and the jackass watches him like he’s a polite and proper little douchebag who would _never_ offend anybody, and Neku wants to punch his face in. He keeps his temper, though, and Joshua gives him a sad little smile. “May I be Noise again?” he asks finally, realizing he’s fucked up, and yeah, fine. Neku reaches with his psi and twists, easy as anything, and the idiot human crumbles away.

Joshua chirps, still way more talkative than Neku’d like him to be, but he hops off the couch and clambers from discarded painting to sketchbook to table in search of something, and Neku snorts when he finds out what. A pen and a notepad, because shutting up’s really beyond him, and it takes him a few tries but then he’s writing with his beak: `THX.`

That’s better than Neku expected, but he’s still got to point out, “If you really wanted to thank me, you’d let me go home.”

The bird fluffs up in what’s probably dismay, but he inclines his head and Neku thinks he gets his point. He adjusts the pen and then tries writing some more, but his handwriting’s terrible without thumbs and the only reason Neku can tell what that kanji is supposed to be is process of elimination. `SHIBUYA NEEDS A COMPOSER,` he deciphers, but it already had one.

“Shibuya can find someone else,” he snaps. Joshua drops the pen to coo at him, and Neku’s not fooled by any cuteness. “You _killed me._ ”

He spreads his wings and ducks in what might be a bow, then picks the pen back up. `SRY. I LOOKED.`

“Look harder.” Joshua taps the paper a few times. Yeah? He looked, huh? “You seriously couldn’t find anyone who you didn’t need to kill for it?”

`NO GOOD. ONLY,` and Neku definitely can’t read that kanji. Neku points to it with his eyebrows raised, and it takes Joshua a few moments but then he’s rewriting in kana. `ONLY MINAMIMOTO.`

Ewww. “What about Beat?” he asks, and Joshua underlines `NO GOOD` a few times. Hell, asshole, you don’t insult his best friends like that. “Beat’s one of the best people I know.”

An avian shrug. `WRONG PERSONALITY. WASTE.`

“And I have the ‘right’ personality?” Joshua nods. “How did you even know that when you didn’t _know_ me?” The dumb bird tilts its head, and Neku wishes he didn’t know why Joshua thinks that’s a stupid question. Yeah, fine, composer powers, but Neku doesn’t want these powers and he sure doesn’t trust them enough to kill over. “You’re such an asshole,” Neku tells him, and even if Joshua knew that already, he still needs to hear it.

The bird seems done writing, though, and Neku’s out of questions, so he holds out his arm to offer it as a perch and his useless excuse for a former partner flutters over. He even tries to keep his claws from digging in, a basic courtesy Neku didn’t know if he could expect, and he’s kind of cute like this. A huge jerk, but a cute one.

But there’s somebody else Neku should talk to, and he’s responsible for half the other shit that made his death hell. “You gonna behave if I bring you downstairs with me?” he asks, lowering his arm to get Joshua at eye level, and the bird coos. “That’s not a yes.” A weird shuffling motion, and then Joshua’s carefully scooting up him to get to his shoulder, his claws still not digging in, but it’s not like he hasn’t bitten Neku before.

Still, he’s very nearly polite as he makes himself comfortable, his weight a lot less than Neku thinks it should be, and then he’s lifting at Neku’s shirt collar with his beak. “I don’t know you nearly well enough for that,” Neku drawls, to clear disappointment, but the guy stops and Neku’ll take it.

He needs to talk to Mr H. Mr H knows all kinds of things. It’ll be fine, but Joshua doesn’t want to do this, either, and Neku pets him. He’s got a different texture than Rhyme did, more natural, and Joshua leans into his hand without any complaint. Actually, he might complain if Neku _stopped,_ and he’d worry about spoiling him if he didn’t know there’s no point. Ugh, he needs to go downstairs.

The bird’s nails dig in more with every step, but as they get back to the cafe, it’s Joshua who announces their presence with a loud caw. “I got him,” Neku adds, and Mr H grunts from behind a sideways table.

He flips it over so he can see Neku, and his eyebrow goes up at the stupid bird. “He’s just doing that to keep from talking to you, Phones,” he says, and Neku noticed, thanks. “C’mon, J, you know pins got their vibes too low to talk. Lemme fix you and you can stay here, yeah?”

Joshua squawks disapproval, and ow, fuck, claws. “Shush, Josh,” Neku says, pushing his hand down on him to keep him still, and the bird **bites.** It hurts less than most of the noise Neku fought, but he can feel Joshua’s trying hard and that’s not okay. That’s enough, dude, and Neku looks at Mr H like the guy’s going to rescue him, and miracle of miracles, he does, striding over as Joshua attacks Neku’s hand and slipping his fingers under the bird’s belly as Neku lets him go and Mr H picks him up. He almost expects Joshua to object, the bird’s wings splaying out over Hanekoma’s arms, but the bird only keeps his eyes on Neku as he lets the angel take him.

And Hanekoma’s gentle about it, too, scritching the bird’s chest as Joshua tries to flatten himself down. “You can’t be a crow all day, J,” Mr H murmurs, like Joshua isn’t going to try, and wait, he’s a crow? He’s pink. “You got a composer to serve.”

Oh, hell no. Neku doesn’t think this guy _does_ servitude, and even if he did, Neku doesn’t need that pile of worms. Joshua seems to accept that, though, and he nods as Hanekoma shifts him back into human form, the hoodie and sweatpants thankfully still covering him up. “I’m hardly Conductor material,” he says, pushing his hair aside, and wait.

“You killed the Conductor,” Neku states, because that’s definitely a thing that happened. It happened _earlier today._ There’s no way Joshua forgot.

“He means _your_ conductor,” Mr H says patiently, but Neku doesn’t have a conductor. He’s not going to need one, either, if Shades is any example. “Most composers only got one reaper they talk to directly, and that’s your conductor.”

“Yes, I thought that was obvious,” Joshua says back, and Neku really ought to punch him. It would make him feel better. “Are you thinking the Bitou boy?”

“I haven’t thought about it at all,” Neku says honestly, and he might as well have said he kills kittens regularly for how Joshua’s face contorts. “Look, I’ve been busy, okay? I didn’t think this shit was going to happen to me.” Or, if he was being honest, that Joshua would do this shit to him. He thought Joshua was fucking dead, actually.

More dead.

He thought Joshua was erased without anyone able to bring him back, and he thought Beat would beat the composer and they’d all go home, and more than a bit of him thought they were all gonna die and Shibuya was going with them. Everyone going into a creepy trance is _not_ the sort of thing he can put out of mind. But Joshua looks perturbed that he wouldn’t have, what, thought about the logistics of something he never wanted to happen? That’s rich.

And then the guy seems to realize Neku’s not joking, and Neku feels him pull on their pact, a mosquito wondering where the host is going. It’s easy to not give him anything, and it would be even easier to swat him for trying, but Neku doesn’t want this conversation either and eventually Joshua finds his voice. “Would I be correct in surmising neither Mr H nor your reaper Bitou explained to you how the Shibuya Underground functions?” he asks weakly, like he already knows the answer, and bravo! The douchebag’s finally realized he threw Neku in over his head!

“Beat doesn’t know anything, either,” he tells him, and Joshua covers his face with his palm. “Mr H was _gone,_ Joshua. Last week was very bad.”

“So I gather,” Joshua says, his voice neutral, and Neku waits for the explosion. It comes quieter than he expected, the crazy bastard apparently having grabbed a _straight razor_ when he was in the bathroom earlier, and he goes right for Mr H’s throat, fast enough Neku nearly doesn’t catch him in time. The guy struggles in the grasp of Neku’s psi like there’s any chance whatsoever Neku’ll let him add to his body count, and Mr H grabs his arms to hold him still and get the makeshift weapon away. That’s not enough, though, Joshua batshit enough he tries to turn it on _himself_ rather than let Mr H disarm him, and Neku’s so, so tired. No, you don’t get to do that, and he shoves his way into Joshua’s mind rather than try to fight him.

Joshua’s pain reverberates along the pact, sharp enough Neku knows damn well he’s hurting him, but the guy’s a danger to everyone around him and Neku can’t _stop._ It’s Mr H who helps them both, reaching out with his hand around Joshua’s neck and twisting, easy as anything, and Neku feels sick as Joshua vanishes, his pin dropping down to the floor.

Mr H picks the pin back up with his toes passing to his hand, and he’s so fond as he looks at the crow design that Neku’s stomach flips for a different reason. “He’s fine,” he says, sounding like he’s trying to be reassuring, but nothing about how Joshua was acting makes Neku think he’s even in the same universe as ‘fine.’ “You gonna take him home, or am I keeping him?”

“He tried to kill you,” Neku says blankly, and Joshua’s tried to kill a lot of people. Or mostly just Neku, over and over, and how’s he supposed to forgive that? How is he supposed to get along with this guy who’s ruined his life?

“He can’t hurt you,” he says, pulling the razor out of the pin like the world’s worst hat trick, and Neku wishes he believed that. “He _can’t,_ Phones. He needs your imagination if he wants a form. He distracts you too bad, he dissipates again.”

And doesn’t that sound like a glorious existence. “He’s not going to be like that forever.” Neku won’t let him. A _pin?_ Just a psych Neku could use or throw away? That’s sick, and Neku’s not doing that to anybody, no matter how awful they are.

Mr H sighs. “He might let you make him your reaper,” he concedes, “after he’s calmed down a little. But Phones, Josh hasn’t been _an individual_ 'stead of a force of nature in a long time, and he ain’t gonna like it if you treat him like – like he’s supposed to want stuff on his own, or to _be_ on his own. You should be fine, 'cause you got Beat, but J was by himself for a long time and some things are gonna be slow going, if you want to try to fix him. You don’t gotta, though.”

Josh wanted plenty in their week together. Honestly, he was a demanding jackass. But Mr H has known him for longer than Neku has, and Neku takes a slow breath, or tries to. The air doesn’t move when he does, though, and did it work that way during the Game? He’d have noticed, wouldn’t he, if he didn’t need to breathe? He could still – he pushes the memory of how he met Mr H out of his mind, because he can’t afford that guilt, too. Not when Shiki’s just fine, and his wings inform him she’s sleeping comfortably in her own bed, her only dreams pleasant ones.

“I just want all my friends to be okay,” Neku admits, and Joshua might have been a lousy friend, but Neku doesn’t have many. “I couldn’t help Sota and Nao, and there’s a lot of people I can’t do much for, but if I can give Joshua a chance to be _better,_ I want to.”

Mr H nods. “It’s your funeral,” he quips, and he tosses Joshua’s pin gently back to Neku. Neku really hopes it won’t be.

Has he even had a funeral? He feels the answer lying within his reach, but a remnant of a past composer pushes it away from his awareness, no matter that Shibuya wants to help. Neku doesn’t need to know, and he doesn’t want to, either. Maybe his family knows he’s dead, and maybe they think he ran away, but it won’t do him any good to know which right now.

“Will you still be here if I want to talk to somebody?” he asks finally, and Mr H’s face softens.

“Keeping an eye on you’s my main job now,” he says gently, spreading his arms for a hug, and Neku goes for it. He feels like home, wherever home is supposed to be, and his wings surround him like a sanctuary. “I can’t promise I won’t get called to my other duties, but they all know the composer comes first.”

And that’s Neku now, no matter how much he doesn’t want it to be. “Thanks,” he says, slipping away, and they look at each other as he searches for the courage to ask him something, anything that’ll make life simpler, but he can’t think of anything. Eventually he waves and hops up, out of a specific location and back to simply _Shibuya._

He could stay one with the city forever, but it’s overwhelming, impersonal. There’s so many people he can hear, and he wants to get back down where it’s quiet. But Shibuya was loud even as a Player, and now …

Now, it’s the Shibuya River or nowhere, and he braces himself before landing in the lounge. Shades is gone. He’s safe here, at least for now.

It’s also _too_ quiet, and Neku doesn’t want to be alone. He pushes energy through Joshua’s pin, forcing him human-shaped no matter how the guy feels about it, and the guy staggers forward before falling to the floor. He pushes himself up with both hands, then rolls to gaze up at Neku, his smile wistful. “I see you brought me home,” he murmurs, but this place isn’t anything like it.

“Mr H wasn’t doing you any good,” he explains, and Joshua’s face scrunches up. Yeah, you’re not the only one with a sick sense of humor, bucko. “Do you _always_ try to kill people, or are we special?”

He runs his fingers through his hair, obnoxiously avoidant just like always, but Neku feels in his wings that he’ll answer even if Neku has to compel him to. “It won’t happen again,” he promises, watching a koi in the floor, and Neku sure hopes not. “May I have access to Megumi’s quarters? They’ve missed dinner and he always fed them.”

Who the hell is Megumi, he wonders, but Shibuya fills in the name and he feels sick. Joshua erased the guy a few hours ago and he wants – “Do what you want,” he says, waving his hand and telling Shibuya to make it happen. It’s disgusting, but Joshua going into an extra-dead guy’s room for pet food isn’t the worst of his sins. “Just don’t --” He gestures, lacking the words, and he hopes Joshua understands everything he should absolutely not do. No manipulation, no murder, no mayhem. None of that shit.

And Joshua looks relieved enough Neku almost wants to trust him. “Of course, Neku,” he says with a little bow, and he stands up, looking for some permission from Neku before going anywhere. Like he thinks Neku might kick him out or something.

He’s still annoying even if he’s pulling a kicked puppy routine, but Neku’s having a hard time staying mad at him. He’s just so harmless now. He carefully explains what’s what in his stupidly 80s lounge, or possibly now _Neku’s_ disco retro dance pad, and then he’s off to show Neku where the private facilities are. The composer’s room, ringing of promise and exactly none of Neku’s stuff, and then a plain door across from it with a little nameplate on it.

“Megumi was the only reaper I let stay more than a week,” Joshua says, taking the plate down with more reverence than Neku really expected, but then he’s flipping it over and writing his own name on it. Asshole. “Thank you for your hospitality, Neku. I’ll do my best.”

Yeah, whatever. “Don’t be a total jackass and we’ll call it even, okay?” Neku lies, and he leaves Joshua to it.

Ugh, he needs a nap.

**Author's Note:**

> I am currently running a TWEWY fanfic + fanart + edits exchange, which you can read about [on Tumblr](https://twexwy.tumblr.com/) and [here on AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/twexwy2018/profile).
> 
> I also run an [18+ TWEWY discord!](https://discord.gg/eaH2HdS) Feel free to join it if you so desire.
> 
> o7 If you've got something in particular you want to see in this world, especially if it doesn't require me to figure out how to get my plot concept to cooperate, please have at in the comments!
> 
> Joshua's noise form here is inspired by Yatagarasu and karasu tengu. Hachikou dumped him when the UG changed hands. Neku and Beat don't yet have noise forms I've settled on for this 'verse. Shiki and Rhyme are going to remain human, which is probably for the best.


End file.
